Good Things Come to Those Who Persevere
by Margo Vizzini-Montoya
Summary: Vala: "A tale of the Vexing (Sexy) Space-Vixen and the Grumpy (yet Attractive) Heroic Historian and their poor innocent bystander-teammates. A tale of – Ascended-beings forbid! – feelings." Daniel: "A tale of a pair of idiots." Post-Continuum
1. Chapter 1

**Good Things Come to Those Who Persevere**

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**Tagline: **Vala: "a tale of the Vexing (Sexy) Space-Vixen and the Grumpy (yet Attractive) Heroic Historian and their poor innocent bystander-teammates. A tale of – ascended-beings forbid! – _feelings." _Daniel: "a tale of a pair of idiots." Post-Continuum

**Disclaimers: **not mine, so MGM's et al, but thank the universe for Prime and fanfiction.

Enjoy ; )

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**Prologue**

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_"You know, I think I might stay awhile and, um… help him through this."  
"Yeah, I thought you might. Have fun."  
"Thanks."  
__"He's in for an interesting afternoon."_

_"Indeed."_

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**Chapter 1**

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Daniel did not give Vala's continued stay with the Tok'ra and the former host of Ba'al another thought.

He enjoyed his lunch with the team and Jack, and almost just as much enjoyed the undisturbed quiet of his office as he deep-dived into the latest Alteran text that the Atlantis team had discovered and that Sam had kindly forwarded on to him.

He didn't give her absence another thought _–_ at least not until Cam poked his head in his office and exclaimed, "Geesh! The Doc was right."

Without looking up from the computer screen, he mumbled absentmindedly, "Hmmm…Which 'doc'?"

"Carolyn," Cam replied as he plopped into one of the chairs and spun around in it just like Jack and Vala were forever doing.

Upon completing a full revolution, the colonel continued, "She predicted that without Vala here to irritate the hell out of you, you would get sucked into some Ancient tome and be immersed for days."

At that last bit, his head shot up and he asked in alarm, "Has it been days?"

Not that it would have been unusual for him to have lost track of that much time – rather par for the course, actually – but it_ was_ another matter for his brat of a shadow to have been gone so long.

"Ha, no," Cam laughed. "It's only a little after 8, but you might want to consider pacing yourself. There's no need to cram research. With Ba'al gone, we've officially dealt with the last of the Big Bads."

Daniel resisted the superstitious urge to knock on wood and pointedly suggested to his team leader, "You might want to practice what you preach, sir."

Cam gave him a sly grin as he stood up and clapped him on the shoulder, "Oh, I am. I think it's going to take at least 2-3 more _business_ dinners with Dr. Lam to complete the reviews of the new SG trainees' medical and psych evals."

_'Sanctus stercore! If Vala was here – ' _

This thought was cut off by another clap to his shoulder in parting from Cameron, before he exited his office with a self-satisfied smirk.

Daniel tried to return to his copies of the Alteran text, but he was unable to shift his thoughts away from all of Vala's various and possible reactions to this latest romantic development and how he would have to curb her enthusiastic scheming to run interference with 'Daddy General' on their behalf.

Finally, he gave it up as much as a lost cause as trying to convince Jack that sarcasm was not in fact the highest form of wit.

Maybe, if he was lucky, Landry would stay a few extra days bird-watching up at the cabin…

But when had he ever been that lucky?

~S~

He was not, in fact, that lucky, but neither was he (this time) unlucky.

The General had returned as scheduled, but Vala had not.

"So, she's staying?"

Teal'c gave a slight bow in assent, as he reported, "Jedrek informed me that they requested she extend her time with them. Aharon, the former host, is not doing well, and she may be of help."

"Well, I guess, it stands to reason that a thousands-of-years-old man would not be having the most rapid of recoveries…" he mused uncertainly, hoping that his note of disappointment was not too obvious.

If it was, the observant warrior did not comment upon it, only stating, "And it is known how much Vala MalDuran trusts the Tok'ra and their post-extraction recovery methods. She will want to ensure with her own eyes that they do not repeat her history."

"True, true," he agreed, not being able to argue the point.

Not that he wanted to, because none of that really surprised him. Vala, in her own special way, had often equated her rescue by the Tok'ra as having been 'all about the big bang and without any of the aftercare, pillow talk, or cuddling that someone in my condition should have gotten'.

No, he was more surprised that (a) she hadn't grown bored with the tediousness of caretaking, especially after three days of it, and (b) the Tok'ra were not begging to send her back.

That was, perhaps, a bit harsh, but the Tok'ra were a highly ritualistic society and well, Vala was… _Vala_, and to say that she loved to thumb her nose at rituals and societal norms alike was a vast understatement.

"How long?" he asked curiously, while absent-mindedly wondering if it would be worth creating a small 'work' station for all of her magazines, knick-knacks, and mid-translated Goa'uld texts that littered his lab.

"Do not worry, Daniel Jackson. She only agreed to stay one more week."

_'A week? Guess not then.'_

And then the first part of the Jaffa's reply hit him.

"Worried?!" he scoffed, "Why would I be worried?"

Teal'c stilled, and for just the briefest (but noticeable) moment, his stoic face went even blanker than normal, before he did yet another slight conceding bow.

"Indeed. I will leave you to your peace and quiet then. Cameron Mitchell has challenged me to another sparring match."

Daniel stared flummoxed after the Jaffa, who seemed to be beating a strategic retreat, and wondered what would have been worse – his friend's patented pointed eyebrow quirk or that enigmatic yet somehow knowing poker face that he had just been subjected to.

Either way, he had no idea what Teal'c had been hinting at.

He wasn't worried for Vala. The woman had proven quite clearly and repeatedly that she knew how to take care of herself.

If anything, he should be worried for the poor former host. He couldn't imagine how her incessant chatter could be considered conducive to healing.

Giving his head a little shake, he turned back to what he had been working on before Teal'c had provided the latest Where-in-the-Galaxy-is-Vala-Mal-Duran update.

It was a fascinating account from the Asgard records of their interactions with the Ancients. Fascinating, in that he could see how their culture influenced each other, at least linguistically.

Less than an hour later, he caught himself glancing up for the who-knows-how-many-times that week to share his latest discovery with the aforementioned absent woman (that it was the Ancients' _'et vita brevior'_ that pre-dated the Asgardians' _'__lífið er of stutt'_).

And he realized that of all the people he should be worrying for, it should be _himself_.

He missed her.

_'__No, couldn't be.'_

And yet…

Excluding that first day back, he had found his 'peace and quiet' disquieting.

He, Daniel Jackson, missed vexing Vala Mal Duran.

Ancients help him.

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**A/N: **Thanks for reading! Feedback is welcome ; )

Per Google translator:

_\- Sanctus stercore _= Latin for 'holy shit'

_\- et vita brevior _= Latin for 'life is too short'

_\- lífið er of stutt = _Icelandic for 'life is too short'

Next - Vala's return to S.G.C.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

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ONE WEEK LATER…

"…I mean, can you _believe _it?! The audacity of taking away Sam's command of Atlantis! Not even having the balls to tell her in the first place that was what they were doing? 'To review her command', indeed!"

Daniel hid his smile behind his mug of coffee that he was nursing as he watched the woman stomp and pace around his lab in irate fury on behalf of their mutual friend.

As she called the powers-that-be that was the I.O.A. every name under the many suns she had visited, he realized that one of the good things about having Vala around was that she got to say everything that he had been thinking about those bastards too.

"…and to give her hard-earned and well-deserved command to that weasel-man! There are just no words, no words, Daniel!"

Smirking, he teased dryly, "Oh, I don't know…you have been saying quite a lot of words for the past, oh," – he exaggeratedly glanced at his wristwatch – "eight minutes or so, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh, pffft!" she dismissed his mocking with an annoyed wave of her hand, before hopping up on the lab table that he had (wisely) cleared for that purpose upon learning of her arrival that morning.

"It's not that I am not glad that she is back. It's great to have some more estrogen to balance out the testosterone around here, and to have what Cameron calls the 'band reunification thing again', but – "

"It's 'getting the band back together again'," he corrected automatically. She scowled at him, so with a reassuring pat to her leg, he hastily continued, "_But_ you're right, as much as we love having Sam here with us, it's disheartening to see them disrespect her that way."

The thousand-watt radiant smile she flashed him was stunning and confusing. Stunning, because it was a complete one-eighty from the petulant frown. Confusing, because he didn't think his remark, however insightful, should have induced such euphoria.

And then he realized that he had left his hand on her thigh and his thumb was traitorously rubbing reassuring – not caressing – circles.

Hastily and awkwardly, he removed his hand to unnecessarily push up the rims on his glasses.

She didn't say anything, however, only keeping her reaction to just a knowing smirk, before mercifully changing topics.

He would have been relieved, but the topic she chose to change it to ruined his almost contented mood that her earlier rant and posturing had induced.

"What do you know of cloning, Daniel?"

"I don't know, not much. That's more of the medical and biotech people's departments or Sam's than mine," he admitted with a shrug, before asking warily, "Why?"

With a far more somber air than she usually portrayed, she answered with a shrug of her own, "Oh, it's just that I think Aharon's struggles have more to do with the fact that he is a clone of a host rather than how long the original guy was a host for Ba'al."

"What do you mean?" he asked both intrigued and impressed by her hypothesis.

"Well, the cloned symbiote would have the genetic memory of all of the original's lifetime, but I just don't see Ba'al seeing the point of wasting resources to make it possible for the human hosts to have genetic memory as well."

"No, they wouldn't, would they?" he mused, as he surreptitiously watched her shake off her haunting memories of Qetesh's cruelty.

To distract her, he argued, "But from what I _do_ understand of the cloning process, there is a transfer of the original's consciousness into the cloned vessel, or rather a copy and then a download into the cloned vessel."

"But would you think a Goa'uld would bother with this copy and transfer of consciousness business? Would it need for the host to remember anything? Or wouldn't it be better for the symbiote to inhabit a consciousness-less body?"

"Free of having to fight the host for dominance? Maybe," he conceded. "Or at least one that does not have thousands of years of memory. It could be that the clone body has a 'soul' that is just as self-aware as the original, just far younger."

"So do you think that this means that Aharon really only has the memories of the past few years since his creation?"

And just like _that_, their discussion no longer remained in the safe confines of academia.

For the way she said the ex-host's name, all soft and concerned-like, he knew it was personal.

And for some reason that bothered him. And it bothered him that it bothered him. And because he was far too consumed with his own internal quandary, he replied in a tone that was far more dismissive than he intended.

"Like I said, I don't know much about this. You would be better off talking to an expert in that field."

Vala stiffened at his curt tone, and then hopped down from the table, muttering, "As you wish, darling. I'll leave you alone and go 'pester' Sam and Doctor Landy-Lam instead."

Daniel stared helplessly after her ram-rod straight back as she swanned out of his lab doing her best demonstration of what Cam called her 'Princess in high dungeon act'.

He _had_ meant it to be helpful advice, but there was no way he would explain why he had acted like an ass.

Especially, when he himself did not know the reason.

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**A/N: **For those of you who have reviewed/favorited/followed so far, thanks! And everyone else, thanks for reading. Stay tuned for more : )


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

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A FEW DAYS LATER…

"Off on your first mission back with the boys, I see!"

Sam smiled softly at the dark-haired woman as she joined them in the Gate room. It was just like Vala to put a positive spin on a setback, one that somehow made it seem as if it was advantageous.

Perhaps that was why she was such a survivor – she never let 'them' get her down, be they Goa'uld, stoning villagers, Lucian Alliance smugglers, Ori, or in this case weasely bureaucrats. Her friend Samantha Carter losing her command? Well, that's just fine! Because the team of troublemakers and space-treasure hunters were back together again!

She opened her mouth to genuinely say that it was a shame that the woman would not be 'one of the guys' with her on this mission to PB1-138, but then in jogged Daniel, clutching his hat to his head and his overly stuffed carryall to his shoulder, and breathily apologizing, "Uh, sorry, guys. I couldn't find my – "

He stopped mid-sentence and frowned at Vala, giving her a disapproving once over.

"What, darling?"

With a long-drawn out-suffering sigh that Daniel had perfected, he condescendingly answered, "I know that you find our mission briefings boring, Vala, but I figured that you, at least, with your love of fashion, would have noticed that we are going to a _tropical_ planet, and that desert fatigues would be rather a faux pas."

Sam bit her lip to stifle her laugh and did her very best not to look at either Teal'c or Mitchell, who had both stepped back to watch the fireworks show, as Daniel put his foot in it yet again.

It took Vala a moment to recover. Her eyes widened slightly in shock at the definitely uncalled for acerbity in Daniel's words and tone, then they darted between the three of them decked out in green fatigues and her khaki-colored ones, and then they narrowed for the briefest of instances as her gaze landed back on Daniel also in army green.

"You know, _Dr. Jackson_, for someone with such keen intelligence, it is rather disappointing in how _obtuse_ you can be."

"Wha- ?"

"I mean, really, darling, just on the observation alone that I am 'the one not like the others', you drew the conclusion that this was because _I _was at fault."

"Well, can you – "

Over Mitchell's muttered 'oh man, don't go there', Vala retorted imperiously, "Blame you? _I_ can. I may have been a self-absorbed flirtatious thief and con artist when you first met me, but people change. _I _have changed."

Before Daniel could reply, Walter's voice over the intercom announced, "Chevron 7 is locked" and then there was the _KAWOOSH! _of the unstable vortex.

In the awkward silence that followed, Vala spun on her heel and marched up the ramp, holding her head high as she made her grand exit through the Stargate.

"Uh, does the Princess know…?" Cameron asked hesitantly.

"I do not think so, Colonel Mitchell."

"How long do you think until she notices?"

Sam was about to suggest that maybe one of them go after her, maybe Daniel who would hopefully apologize while he was at it, when the man finally joined the conversation.

"Notices what?"

"That she is not on the Tok'ra homeworld," Teal'c supplied matter-of-factly, and although she could detect no difference in his usual succinct and stoic manner, it seemed to her that there was hint of rebuke in his tone of voice aimed specifically at Daniel.

"Oh," Daniel breathed, looking somewhat stunned, and then more than a bit sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck, as he muttered, "I take it, it's to go see the ex-host?"

"_Aharon_," she corrected, not bothering to hide her censure at his continued refusal to use the man's name. "She and I came up with some possible ways to test out her clone theory." While also discussing and commiserating over the idiocy of men, but he didn't need to know that.

"Oh, should I – "

"Are you all going to stand there and dawdle?! Either go through and send her back, or go through and send her to the Tok'ra from there!" General Landry bellowed over the intercom.

As one they all turned to cast him apologetic glances through the window, before doing as ordered.

Once they reached the other side, Vala was standing at the DHD and greeting them with a sheepish smile, "Well, talk about a faux pas."

Sam couldn't be sure, as the noise of the gate closing behind them muffled it, but she could have sworn Daniel had muttered under his breath, "Oh sure, she gets that expression right."

After redialing for Earth and sending her I.D.C. code, Vala stepped to the side and made a grand sweeping gesture, as if she was presenting to them the tropical world of PB1-138 on a silver platter. To top her performance off, she magnanimously declared, "It's all yours, darlings."

Teal'c bowed with far less dramatic gallantry, before taking the point position at the start of the path that would lead them deeper into the rainforest.

She herself re-shouldered her bags and smiled kindly to the woman who was so valiantly trying to hide her embarrassment and for once doing a terrible job of it. Even Daniel noticed.

Sam tried to give them space by making her way to join Teal'c, but she was not fast enough.

"Look, Vala, I'm sor- "

"Bye, Felipa!"

Sam didn't catch if Daniel caught the misquoted pop-culture reference or if he corrected her, before Vala stepped through, because Cameron burst out into laughter, gasping, "'Bye, Felipa!'. That's – that's _classic_!"

His amusement over the 'classic' snub or 'classic' Vala-rendition was so infectious that she joined in and even the corner of Teal'c's mouth turned up a fraction of an inch.

But by the time Daniel caught up to them a few moments later, they had their hilarity under control, and no one said anything.

They were SG-1, and despite the Vala-Daniel shenanigans, they had a job to do. And they would do it damn well.

It was good to be home.

~S~

While Walter dialed up the Gate to the Tok'ra home-world, she did her level best to look as nonchalant as possible.

Jacket casually tossed over her shoulder, hooked on the tips of her fingers, _a la_ her first entrance to this quaint little planet? Check.

Sly secretive smile? Check.

Flirtatious wink at Siler and another at the SFs standing guard? Double check.

It was not her most convincing act she knew, but she also really didn't care that much. She had more important matters to be concerned about. Like what in the world was wrong with her Daniel?

He hadn't been this snarly and snappy with her over the past year while Sam was in Atlantis. In fact, they had gotten along rather well, both during missions and off.

He had learned to keep her occupied, give her a task to focus on, to include her, treating her as an almost equal and definitely as part of the team. And he had been the one to advocate that she get an 'alien green card', a small stipend from the I.O.A. as a 'consultant', and even helped her get her very own credit card.

But now? Now, well, there were no words. At least, none that could be adequately translated from Goa'uld to English. If there was such a translation book, her Daniel would be pictured right next to it as its prime example.

_'You know, as much as Daniel loves to explore new worlds, find new people, languages, and cultures, he is like most men I know, especially academic men – he's stuck in his ways. And you going off and having your own adventure without him?'_

_'Makes him jealous?'_

_'Well, no, more like you are ruining his routine. He was content with the way things were, and once again, you are changing things up on him.'_

While she would much rather his asinine and grouchy behavior be due to her theory, Samantha may have been on to something.

Maybe, Daniel had become too complacent with the way things were, too comfortable with her. Maybe…

_'Hmmm…Try playing hard to get.'_

_'Man, look who's talking.'_

She was jarred from her thoughts on how she could exactly follow Cameron Mitchell's advice, when the _KAWOOSH!_ blasted out once again, this time to her destination.

With far less fanfare than her previous exit, she walked through the Gate, and when she came to the other side, she was greeted by Jedrek, Teal'c's contact with the Tok'ra and one of their healers.

"How's our boy doing, Jedrek?"

"Not too well, Vala Mal Doran," the sandy-colored man of the sandy-colored clothes replied sadly. "We managed to convince him to join in the communal activity of baking bread, but he does not seem to take an interest."

As disheartening as this news might be to some, she was not prepared to give up yet. Aharon's lackluster spirits could be due to other reasons beyond just trauma-induced depression.

It could be that without the symbiote to direct his body, he didn't know how to go through the motions of life. Or if after living as Ba'al, a 'god', he found menial tasks beneath him. Or it could be he had never learned how to express his own emotions and was not sure how to find catharsis healthily.

She was no mental health expert, and she was probably still classified as an emotional wreck herself; but Aharon could gain something from her experiences.

Smiling at Jedrek, she said, "Get two wooden spoons, and I'll teach him the wonders of beating the hell out of a piece of dough."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

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SEVERAL WEEKS LATER…

"So I was wrong after all. Aharon's problems aren't clone-related at all. Once he figured out what I was getting at, he told me that Ba'al wasn't sure how to complete the cloning process without the soul-transference thing, so he did it anyways. Which was a bummer to learn. It would have been nice to have one of _my _theories proven right again. But really it has more to do with the fact that now I have to start back at square one…"

"…and I mean, really! Who doesn't love a good bar brawl? You throw a few punches, blacken a few eyes of a few dumb drunken louts, pick a few pockets while you're at it, kiss a pretty bar wench before you flee the local constables – what more can prove that you are alive? Other than a nice down and dirty or up against an alley wall quickie, that is? But does Aharon want to even attempt – the bar brawl, not the sex mind you – _Noooo! _He's even more of a stick in the clay than you, Daniel…"

"…And after three phases of the moon of that lack of willingness to even _try_ to see what the galaxy has to offer, I left to take a much needed holiday. A girl can only take so much 'woe is me', you know."

When he finally could get a word in edgewise, he muttered, "Tell me about it."

_Thud!_

The chair that Vala had been precariously balancing on landed on all fours, as she stiffly sat up and glowered at him.

Cursing silently to himself for letting his mouth get out of control _again_, he attempted to backpedal and apologize, "I'm sorry, Vala. That was insensitive. I didn't – "

He stopped when he saw her glower turn into a slow Cheshire grin.

"Oh, I think you did mean it."

"No, I – " he tried again, but was cut off.

"Yeah, you did. You get positively peevish and surly when I talk about Aharon. I think you're jealous."

"Jealous? Where in the world - ? I mean that's completely – absurd! I'm not – " he spluttered (in shock, not outrage, mind you), and only managed to stop when he realized that his vehemence could be misconstrued as 'protesting too much'.

Surprisingly, the minx didn't point this out like he expected. Instead, she waved her hand dismissively and declared, "Of course, I don't think you are _romantically_ jealous. You have made that _abundantly_ clear. But you _are _jealous of how much of my time and attention Aharon is taking, time and attention away from you, my darling."

_'Of all the – conceited, self-absorbed, delusional … things!'_

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. He didn't have time for this. He had a briefing for their mission to P2K-421 to prep for.

With an irritable growl, he snapped, "You think I _want_ that kind of attention? The 'Oh look at me! Look at me! I'm bored!' song and dance routine that you do?"

And just like that, all hint of nonchalant amusement disappeared from her demeanor and her crystal blue eyes flashed with fire, as she stood up and went toe-to-toe with him, hissing furiously, "Oh, don't give me that! I am not like that unless I don't have anything to do. And by the way, I think you secretly like it!"

His mouth dropped open in incredulous disbelief.

"Yeah, that's right!" she declared triumphantly, her chin jutting out defiantly and her hands waving about passionately, as she persisted in her diatribe, "For one, you get to lord your superiority over me, the lesser mortal, the pathetic woman who has some sick, twisted need to beg for your attention, no matter what kind you deign to toss her way."

He caught a brief glimpse of a bitter grimace of what looked almost to be self-loathing, but then it was gone again. Her expression was the perfect depiction of an indignant insulted woman, as she caught her breath and concluded her attack, "I – I stroke your _massive_ ego!"

He was so thrown off by both her words and her rapidly shifting emotions that all he could stammer out was:

"That's – that's – !"

"What? Inconceivable? Preposterous?" She scoffed, and when he didn't deny it, she snatched up the to-go containers of coffee that she had brought with her and declared heatedly, "Fine. Go ahead and deny it. But even if I am wrong, you can be sure that I won't bother irritating you with my presence anymore. Because I am done – _done! – _trying to prove my worth to you."

And then she marched out of a room on him for the third time in the past month.

He had no idea how long he stood there in stunned silence staring at the empty space before him, but he was just plain gob-smacked.

He could not believe that she thought he was _that_ conceited. Him.

Wasn't she the one that was always saying – _'Take pride in your work, Daniel'_… _'Don't be so shy, Daniel'… 'Strut your stuff, Daniel. You have such a big – brain. No need to blush so, darling'_ because she thought him _too_ modest?

And he _did_ value her. She was part of their team now. Part of his family.

If Sam was his big sister, then she was his crazy distantly-related adopted cousin. The one who was always trying to make them 'kissing cousins' and the one who drove him so insane that he couldn't even finish his sentences. Him! The intergalactic linguist who no one else could shut up.

The fact that she could do that alone made her pretty damn special. Not to mention all of her other fine qualities, like –

That thought got derailed when he sought to relieve his growing headache with a soothing sip of hot java and realized that to add insult to injury she had absconded with his coffee too.

With a sigh, he resigned himself to the fact that the woman had successfully delayed his prep work for yet another mission briefing.

And as he made his way to the cafeteria, he tried to ignore that niggling nagging voice in his head that for the past several weeks had been repeatedly asking him:

_'Which is worse – her 'irritating presence' or her aching absence, Danny boy?'_

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**A/N: **Questions? Comments? Concerns? All are welcome.

Also, stay tuned for teamy-goodness!


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **I recently realized that I goofed. In this point in the timeline, Samantha Carter is a 'full bird' colonel, not a major, as I referenced in an earlier chapter. My bad. Anywho, enjoy : )

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**Chapter 5**

* * *

MID-AFTERNOON THE NEXT DAY…

_"What I want to know is - do we think Vala's sick or is Daniel in the doghouse?"_

Vala paused in her trek through the temple ruins and held her breath. When no one appeared to have heard her approach or realized that Cameron's words echoed from the antechamber and into her stairwell, she relaxed and settled into a right good eavesdrop.

She had no qualms about it. No, she had learned long ago that even if what you heard about yourself was bad, it was certainly useful. And this time was proving no different.

_"I don't think she's sick," _Samantha diplomatically hedged.

_"Neither one has talked to you about it?"_

'It' was of course the uneasy truce that she and Daniel were maintaining on this mission. Well, _she _was maintaining.

While Daniel had been his usual scowly self when he managed to pull his attention away from temple wall scratches, she had been uncharacteristically quiet and business-like. She just didn't have the energy to purposefully push his buttons today, and was not even sure she had the desire to do that at all anymore. What after all was the point?

Apparently though, her attitude change had been noticed by the team. It shouldn't have surprised her, as it remarkably resembled Carolyn's towards Daddy General when she was pissed off at him.

When Cameron did not get an immediate reply to his question (or the expectant pleading of his puppy dog blues that he was no doubt batting at his fellow colonel), he sighed resignedly, _"And if they had, you wouldn't tell me."_

_"If you think it's compromising the mission, sir, you could always order them to tell you,"_ Samantha suggested, and to Vala's ears doing a poor job of stifling her snigger of amusement at how awkward that would be for the man.

Hastily he replied, _"No, no. it's not. It's just weird… how, well, you know…Don't you think, Teal'c?"_

There was yet another pause as the Jaffa took his now usual methodical moment of consideration, the one he had been doing ever since their time-bubble sojourn in the Odyssey, before answering succinctly, _"Indeed."_

Amazingly, however, he did not leave it at that, adding rather wryly for him_, "But I predict, as General O'Neill would say, Daniel Jackson will 'pull his head out of his donkey' soon."_

The sounds of Samantha's and Cameron's responses drifted away as the trio moved on to the next room, but she stood frozen in place.

She had been annoyed at Cameron's curiosity, briefly anxious about the idea of him pulling rank to meddle (because the man was as subtle as Jaffa warfare tactics), and both relieved by his disinclination and amused by it.

She had been annoyed, at first, with Samantha for her suggestion of ordering her to talk 'feelings' with their team lead – she didn't even do that with Daniel (which may admittedly be part of the problem), but then she had been amused and impressed by the woman's strategic diversionary tactic of making Cameron so uncomfortable.

She was grateful for Samantha's respect for their boundaries, and a bit sad that they did not have the kind of confidante relationship where she would have been able to provide the kind of details that Cameron was asking for. Oh, she could bitch and moan about men in general with her fellow female teammate. But to talk in detail about her issues with Daniel would put his sister-figure in an untenable position as she had longer history with the infuriating man.

But Teal'c, most of all, had astoundingly stupefied her. That big stoic Ted-Bear of a Jaffa had taken _her_ side, _and_ he seemed to have some hope for her rapidly deteriorating relationship with Daniel.

After hours of agonizing curt civility and distant professional politeness between her and the archaeologist, as they considered possible translations for various engravings on the temple walls, it was his little Jack-ism that made her want to cry. And for the thousandth time, it made her wish that she had access to his insider-info.

Giving herself a shake for such sappy sentimentality, she decided instead to give the man a giant and unexplained hug, when the next opportunity presented itself.

~S~

AN HOUR LATER…

Much to the astonishment of everyone, as they all met up at the rendezvous point to discuss the best option for making camp, Vala launched herself at the Jaffa, wrapping him with both arms and legs in her version of a full-bodied hug.

Teal'c caught her, and even more surprisingly, gave her a brief and gentle squeeze, which was a far cry from his usual formal and stiff demeanor.

Vala bussed him on the crown of his forehead just above his mark before hopping down and nonchalantly facing the rest of them.

When Cameron looked as if he was going to ask for an explanation, Teal'c raised one of his eyebrows challengingly, and the man snapped his jaw shut before turning back to business.

Teal'c himself needed no explanation, for not only had he heard Vala Mal Doran's descent in the stairwell and then hesitation outside of the antechamber, but he could also recall many a conversation that ended or began with such displays of affection, usually in the _Odyssey_'s galley storeroom as they worked on meal prep together and worked through their confusion about their Tau'ri companions.

After one such spontaneous embrace, he had asked her, _"You do this often. Why?"_

She had shrugged before replying, _"Because out of all of us, you, Muscles, are the one that has kept the faith. Faith that we will find a solution, and faith in us, even Daniel and me."_

_"Not always."_

_"No, we all have our bad days, but you recover from them quickest and put up with ours the best. Such steadfast hope should be rewarded."_

_"You do me great honor, my friend Vala Mal Doran-Jackson."_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

THREE DAYS LATER…

Vala was miserable. It was raining and pouring, and she wished her man was snoring so she could give him a right good bump in the head. And then maybe kiss it better.

Instead of being all snuggled up against him by the fire, as they reviewed the day's findings, she was morosely staring out of the cave mouth at the downpour and enduring Cameron's valiant attempts to cheer her up with stories from his 'misspent' youth. It was sweet, but oh so obvious that he was uncomfortable with the recent change in his team's dynamics.

She hadn't realized how uncomfortable he was with it, until he dropped his façade of cheer and earnestly but quietly inquired:

"So when we get back from this mission, am I going to be helping you transfer to another team?"

Her mouth dropped open in shock and then she was momentarily frozen as she searched for the best response.

Should she be 'wounded' at his apparent rejection of her?

Should she tease him about his using any excuse to get rid of her?

Or should she laugh at his delusion that he could get rid himself of her so easily?

Eventually, she recovered her poise, and asserted haughtily, "I may be an alien female with a questionable work history, Cameron, but I assure you, I can act just as professionally as Daniel."

"I wasn't – that's not what I meant…"

She cut off his protests of innocence with a flick of her hair over shoulder and a disdainful sniff, as she archly declared, "Besides, without me, who would help Muscles save our Tau'ri teammates when you all inevitably get yourselves into trouble?"

Teal'c, who had just joined them from his patrol of the deeper recesses of the cavern, arched his own eyebrow in return and began to (no doubt in her mind) agree with her assessment.

But before her fellow non-Tau'ri teammate could utter a single syllable, Cameron ordered testily, "Don't. Say a word. And definitely not _that_ one."

The corners of Muscles' mouth twitched up slightly and his eyes twinkled at her in silent amusement at their leader's grumpiness.

She gently nudged him in the hip in gratitude, and he not-so-gently hip-checked her back, bumping her into Cameron, who shoved her back into the Jaffa, which began a three-way tussling match.

And as they playfully wrestled, threatening to push each other out into the downpour, Vala had a few epiphanies.

Epiphany #1: This is what it meant to have brothers.

Epiphany #2: That no matter what happened between her and Daniel, she would still have them, her SG-1 family, Sam too, awkward as it would be.

Epiphany #3: She just needed to work at being content with that.

~S~

It was raining and it was storming and it was a damp cold in their cave shelter, but that was not why Daniel was miserable.

No, once again, he was feeling the odd man out.

After exploring the abandoned temple and town ruins, they had moved on this morning to the mountain region where Sam had detected traces of trinium, and they had spent all day trekking through the hills and mountains to take soil samples and poke their noses in crevices and caves, which had been fortuitous for when the storm had hit.

Usually, he and Vala would be paired up, and he would alternately have to endure her childish 'are-we-there-yets' and be entertained by her outrageous hypotheses about the daily lives of the people who had once populated this area and why they were no more.

But Cameron had mixed things up, pairing him with Sam and pairing Vala with Teal'c, while he roved between the two.

It wasn't the first time the colonel had done this, and usually, it was to spare everyone's sanity from his and Vala's bickering.

But this time it was to spare everyone from the glaringly obvious truth – the team's cohesive camaraderie was broken. Because even when they didn't bicker, there had always been good-natured (if occasionally evocative on Vala's part) teasing. And now, nothing.

And this was becoming even more glaringly obvious since they settled to wait out the storm. For usually, in these circumstances, after a brief time-out from each other, they would be pouring over the day's find, comparing observations and theories.

But now, he was reviewing his recordings and notes on his own and Sam was quietly doing the same with hers, while the other three were at the mouth of the cave chatting away.

Well, Vala and Cameron were chatting away, keeping Teal'c company as he stood guard (a regrettable necessity as their earlier bout of horse-play may have caught the attention of local predators).

And to make matters worse, he couldn't bury himself in his work because he had Jack's voice in his head, which he couldn't seem to stop arguing with.

_"Well, if you weren't jealous before, you sure are now, Danny boy."_

_'Shut up.'_

_"You should have kissed that girl by now."_

_'Why? She's Vala!'_

"_So?"_

_'She's a team member.' _

_"Sooo?"_

_'Pot, kettle. I seem to recall a certain **someone** denying themselves for years because of that little fact.'_

_"Apples and oranges. You're civilians."_

_'She's an alien.'_

_"Technically, a human from a different planet, and we all know that has never stopped you before, so why now?"_

He tried to ignore the voice. He truly did. And instead, he focused on comparing these hieroglyphs to the ones on P2A-A23.

But it wasn't long before his inner-Jack interjected:

_"You know what? I think that you're scared."_

Well, he couldn't let that go unanswered, could he?

_'Don't I have a right to be scared? She is Vala Mal Doran, a thief, cheat, and con artist.'_

_"I dunno. I seem to recall – or rather **you **seem to recall, as I am actually you – a very impassioned speech where it was argued that she should be trusted despite those qualities. And you know she **has** changed, grown even, we might say, since then."_

With a disgusted huff, he shoved his inner-Jack, Jiminy-Cricket, whatever, into one of his mind's many deep dark corners, waved off Sam's concerned glance, and redirected his attention back to this rare find of Anatolian hieroglyphs.

But it was proving impossible.

Because now he could not escape the truth. He _was_ scared.

Vala _had_ changed, had grown since that first day on the _Prometheus _and even more so since the fiasco of the bracelets. She _could_ be trusted to do the right thing when the stakes were high – the fate of the galaxy, free will, and her right to pursue happiness.

He just didn't know if she considered his heart and its preservation as of equal importance.

And he was afraid to chance it. Because if he gave in, even a little, he would fall hard, and she would have the power to break him.

* * *

**A/N: **Thoughts?


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

* * *

ONE MONTH LATER…

Vala reeled out of the briefing room, feeling as if she had just been kicked in the chest by a mulish camel.

All she could hear were the words _"Some people just can't be saved" _over and over again.

All she could think about was her need to see _him._

~S~

"So what was it that General Landry wanted to talk to you about?"

He had asked this nonchalantly as possible, not even looking at her as he opened the door to his quarters, before returning to his search of his bookshelf for his copy of the Luwian lexicon.

He had been intensely curious when the general had requested Vala's presence, especially after learning guests had arrived early this morning through the Stargate, even before he had gotten into the base. But he had resisted the urge to go with her, careful to maintain the distance that she was _finally _giving him.

It had been weeks of cool, aloof civil professionalism between the two of them, when they were off-world or in his office collaborating on a translation, but even that had become fewer and farther between as she worked with Sam or Dr. Lee on some of their Goa'uld tech projects or with Mitchell and Teal'c as they trained new recruits or improved base security. There had been no requests to take a break, join her for dinner on/off base, or to give her opinion on which was the sexier lingerie outfit - let alone any visits to his quarters in simple BDUs.

What he really wanted to ask her was why the sudden break in this recent (and strangely unwelcome) pattern of behavior - why she was so uncharacteristically hovering in his doorway after weeks of curt courtesy, but he figured that he would play it safe, and just limit his inquisitiveness to the general's request. That was safe and neutral, or so he thought.

But then, because he was so attuned to her that it was ridiculous, his ears unerringly picked up on on her quickening breath, and he knew that his hypothesis of 'safe and neutral' was pure fallacy.

His concern became anxious alarm when he saw the devastated look on her face, and he dropped all pretense of nonchalance, as he worriedly asked, "Vala, what's wrong?"

One moment, there was cool, distant, walls-up Vala, and the next moment, there was warm, overly-familiar, all-out Vala.

For as soon as he showed that little bit of kindness, she was launching herself at him, barreling into his chest, and borrowing in as she tried to stifle her sobs. There were no half-measures with his Vala.

After regaining his balance, he gently wrapped his arms around her and held her.

They stood like that for several moments, with him whispering soft assurances into her dark hair and occasionally rubbing soothing caresses up and down her back.

Eventually, in between teary sniffs, she whispered, "He's dead. Aharon's dead."

He stilled for a moment, not sure how to react, especially as the man had been the source of the trouble between them. But he quickly shoved that aside and gave her a brief comforting squeeze, before murmuring, "How did it happen?"

She stepped out of his embrace to shut the door, before making a beeline for his box of tissues. After clearing out her sinuses and hastily drying her face, she briskly reported, "According to Jedrek – he's who came knocking at the butt-crack of dawn this morning – when an incoming wormhole was announced, he darted in front of the gate. Apparently, yelling about how 'The Evil' would die with him."

Ever so eloquently, he said, "Oh."

That's all he could think to say to convey his surprise and sorrow for this tragedy, because anything else he thought to say only sounded trite and full of platitudes.

It was not enough for Vala though. Or maybe she just needed something to lash out against, some impetus to put her defensive armor back on. Either way, her back stiffened, and she challenged bitingly, "Go ahead and say 'I told you so'."

He knew immediately what she was alluding to – his once cautionary warning about the likelihood of the ex-host's – _Aharon's_ – recovery.

"Vala, I'm not going to do that," he gently admonished.

But she wasn't having it. She was definitely spoiling for a fight to cover up her emotional vulnerability, just like they always do with each other, and she immediately retorted, "Well, at least you'll be happy to know that things will go back to the way they were."

He knew what she was doing, so he did not rise to the bait. In fact, he gave her accusation careful consideration.

_Did _he really want things to go back to the way they were? Bickering, fighting, teasing, wishing for more but never having?

Better yet, did he want things to stay as they were? Distant, polite, silent with only his own thoughts for company?

Did he have any alternatives?

He took too long to respond and whatever she read in expression pissed her off even more, as she scoffed, "Oh don't look at me like that. You know perfectly well what I meant."

"Enlighten me," he challenged, with far less heat and bite than usual but with just enough to goad her, as she seemed to so desperately need.

Vala rolled her eyes and waving her hand accusatorily back and forth between them, as she growled, "You know, where you go back to being the broody heroic scholar and I am your manic pixie."

He stared at her blankly, not getting the reference.

"The plucky and quirky sidekick at best, team tagalong at worst," she elaborated before turning away to begin fiddling with one of his funerary statues.

He mentally kicked himself. Either he was about to be duped by one of her manipulative ploys, or his instinctive drive for self-preservation had hurt her, this woman who was his…_friend_, at the very least.

And if that was the case, he had to fix this.

Walking over to stand right at her side, invading her personal space like she had so often done to him, he cupped her cheek and tilted her head up to face him. Speaking very slowly, he professed, "You're not the backup singer. You haven't been for a very long time."

She momentarily leaned into his touch, her blue eyes boring into his, before pulling away and voicing the question that they had been asking:

"Fine, what am I then? To you?"

"You're – " he broke off, because he was at a loss for words. How could he sum up such a complex woman and all the complicated-ness between them?

Finally, he settled on, "You're _Vala."_

She threw her arms up, hissing, "_Twenty-three_ languages, and _that's_ what you can come up with?"

"Um, no, I – "

"You're right," she cut him off, before accusing, "You probably could come up with more, but you _won't_. Because you don't want things to change."

_'Wait. First, I want things to change and to go back the way they were. And now I **don't** want things to change?'_

The illogic of it and the feeling like he was in a no-win situation caused him to frustratedly blurt out the truth.

"It's not that I don't _want_ things to change. It's that I am _scared_."

This time, it was Vala who was the one staring blankly.

And before she could recover and mock protest with an 'oh, you're scared of little old me?', he pressed on, unburdening all that he had been holding in for the past year or more and especially this past month.

"I have _finally_ gotten to a place where I can imagine risking being close to someone again, but for that person to be you? I just – you just _terrify_ me! You're impossible, unpredictable, and maddening! You could so easily destroy me."

At this, Vala turned away again, muttering with a sniff, "Well, you're no pie-walk either, darling."

He stopped, resisting the instinctual urge to snap back at her, and studied her for a moment, taking the time to _really_ look at her.

He saw her hunched in posture, heard her quiet sniffs, her lack of flippancy, and realized that he had the power to just as easily destroy her.

Reaching out, he once again turned her to face him and touched her chin gently.

When her gaze finally met his, he searched them, and what he saw in their azure blue and teary depths gave him hope.

"I know," he admitted regretfully, "so I am going to try again. Are you listening?"

She slowly nodded her head, never taking her eyes from his.

His hand dropped to her shoulder, so that he was now gripping both as he earnestly declared what was perhaps one of the most important truths of his life.

"You're _my Vala_. And I _want_ things to change. I want to risk being all in, with _you_."

Daniel saw hope and then fear flash in her eyes, before she tried to pull away from him once again. But he wasn't having it, and his grip tightened on her even more, refusing to let her run.

Finally, she breathed uncertainly, "You're not mess- ?"

"No, I am not. Are you – ?"

The words were barely out his mouth before she was lunging up and kissing him.

His hands rose up of their own accord and sunk into her thick hair, holding her in place as she stole his breath away.

And when she ran out of her own, he gasped out the last of his question as no new thoughts had been able to form.

" – with me?"

"No," she denied with an emphatic shake of her head, and then in between _very _passionate kisses amended honestly, "Not about this…Never this…us."

It took him a few moments, but somewhere in the back of his brain, he picked up on the distinction. She would never mess with him about their relationship, but everything else might be fair game.

Laughter in either amusement or relief bubbled up within him, and he had to pull away.

Gently resting his head against her forehead, he quietly chuckled, "Fair enough."

And then he was kissing her again and/or she was kissing him again. It didn't matter.

What mattered was that she was in his arms, and he was done resisting her.

And that included being maneuvered closer to the bed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

* * *

"You know, darling, I can practically hear the cogs spinning in your head," Vala sleepily observed, as she lightly ran her fingers down his chest.

_'Cogs spin…oh, gears turning' _he mentally translated, but thankfully was not so blissed out that he voiced the correction. Talk about killing the mood.

And he quite liked the mood right now. Vala was contently quiet, almost still, and warm against his side, as he slowly ran his fingers in a light caress up and down her back. And he was happy, the happiest that he had ever been in – _gods, ancients, whatever _– knew how long. The only fly in the ointment was …

"I was just wondering if I should have taken advantage of your grief over Aharon like that."

Vala snorted, her warm breath tickling across his neck, as she drawled with mild exasperation, "Only you, my Daniel."

His arm stilled and he looked down at her, "Is it really that silly? I don't want to be _that_ guy."

Vala reached up and put her finger to his lips to quiet him, as she asserted archly, "In case you have forgotten, I prefer my _comforting _to come in the form of physical affection."

Before he could roll his eyes or make some arrogant asshole snark, as had become his bad habit with her, she settled back down, resting her head on his shoulder, her hand over his heart, as she thoughtfully confessed, "I think, it grounds me in my body, reminds me that it is fully my own."

And then in typical Vala fashion, after hitting him with that emotional sucker punch of her host days gone by, she followed it up with a sweet verbal jab that knocked the wind out of him, as she declared:

"Besides, darling, I don't think your declaration of desire could _ever_ have had bad timing."

"Really?" he asked doubtfully, thinking of all sorts of instances – mid-mission briefings, negotiations with the Russians, mid-testimony in front of the Senate Appropriations Committee…

"Not for me," Vala replied with an indifferent shrug, and then her shoulders shook a little as she chucked, "I, at least, am not embarrassed by public parades of affection. _But_ if you had waited years and years until we were on our death beds of old age, then maybe."

"Touché," he agreed. "That would have been a tragedy."

Silence fell after that, and he would have thought she had drifted back to sleep (and he himself might have), if it had not been her restless drumming of her fingers on his chest.

"Now I can feel you thinking."

Vala sighed and rolled over so that she was staring up at the ceiling and actually using her own pillow, before admitting softly, "'Years and years' and 'old age' – they made me think about that time on the _Odyssey_ that only Teal'c remembers."

"Yeah?"

"I always knew I would have hooked up with somebody – because well, it's me – but I never dared to hope that it had been with you."

He inhaled sharply at the echo of that long-held pain. Reaching over, his left hand squeezed her right in the space between them, half in apology for all the hurt his repeated rejections must have caused her and half in reassurance that things had definitely changed between them.

She squeezed back, interlacing their fingers together, as she mused aloud, "But now that we have proven that it is definitely possible in at least one reality… Well, I wonder that if it was more than just 'hooking up' and we had been in a long-term relationship there, somehow not driving each other too batshit crazy or killing each other, then… was it only because we were trapped?"

"And couldn't run away from each other, you mean?"

"Yep."

"I think…" he started to say but stopped. What did he think?

Well, for one, he had always assiduously avoided thinking about that alternate reality, because he had been too scared shitless to contemplate what he would have wanted to happen in that situation. Imagining such a thing would have led to facing the true depth of his feelings for this woman that he hadn't been ready for. And even he had limits on how much he could lie to himself.

"I think," he began again. "That being stuck on that ship indefinitely would have forced that other version of ourselves to face things that we are so excellent at avoiding…_But_ I don't think that we need to be forced into a similar situation for us to succeed now."

"No?" she asked with a hint of wistful hope.

"No," he repeated with a soft smile, satisfied that he had guessed correctly about her underlying fear.

"I think, we just need to commit to not run away from each other and our feelings, whether that's our work or … _ahem_," he cleared his throat, barely catching himself before ruining his proposed vow with an insult.

"Or my many con artist personas?" a hint of wry amusement tinging her helpful suggestion.

"Yeah that," he agreed meekly.

"Do you think we can actually do it?"

If she had asked him a week ago, he would have 'no'. They were too broken, too guarded, too stubborn in all the wrong ways.

But now…

Now that their walls had been broken down, they could put that tenacity to good use.

"I think if we commit to doing our best to try and keep on trying, then yeah, it's achievable. You know, progress not perfection."

He hadn't known he had been holding his breath until he let it out in a rush, when she declared determinedly, "Okay, deal."

And then she was rolling back over, swinging her leg over him, and straddling him, all before leaning down and whispering huskily, "Shall we seal it with a kiss?"

The sight of her, the sound of her, the smell of her, and the _feel_ of her flooded his senses, and the knowing of her, that she was his, all his, his Vala, filled his mind, body, and soul like no other truth of the universe had.

And all he wanted to do was taste her.

He surged up, threaded his fingers in her hair, gripped the back of her head, anchoring her to him, and kissed her with all he had.

When they broke off for air, Vala chuckled lowly, "I think I will take that as a yes."

"No more thinking, no more talking," he pleaded with a low growl before capturing her lips again.

But because she was Vala Mal Doran and had to have the last word, she gasped out, "As you wish, darling," before plundering his mouth yet again.

~S~

THE NEXT MORNING…

"Hey, Mitchell!"

"Hello, General," Cameron greeted Jack O'Neill. "What brings you to our neck of the woods?"

Jack gave a little ambiguous shrug, as he answered noncommittally, "Oh this and that and some other bureaucratic thing."

Cameron would have gladly let his curiosity go and been on his way, but the man turned the tables on him, slyly eyeing him and the two cups of pricey coffee and bag of muffins that he had picked up from the artisanal café near his apartment, before asking with knowing delight, "And what _exactly_ brings you to this stretch of concrete hallways with _those_?"

"Oh, uh, Caro- Dr. Lam worked the overnight shift, and she asked me to pick her up some on my way in," he stammered, carefully leaving out that he had stopped by his on-base quarters for a spritz of the cologne that he was out of at home first.

Fortunately, for him, a distraction came along that snagged the General's attention before he could question him further.

A distraction in the way of Vala Mal Doran.

A Vala Mal Doran, leaving Jackson's room with mussed hair, a _very_ contented smile, and far too much pep in her step as she sauntered towards the other end of the hall.

Before he could pick his jaw off the floor, Jack was holding out his hand and ordering happily, "Twenty bucks, cough up."

He juggled the coffee cup tray and muffins into one hand, so that he could dig the cash out of his pocket with his other, as he grumbled with a muttered, "How'd you know?"

_He_ certainly hadn't thought they were anywhere near taking their bizarre relationship to this level, especially not after their behavior recently.

"Aside from my long-term association with the man?" his superior drawled, and then as he pocketed the money, he added with a smug grin, "I'm smart like that."

Arching his eyebrow in his best imitation of Teal'c, he retorted dryly, "Be sure to give the Major her cut, sir."

Jack eyed him up and down, observing with mock irritation, "You're a cheeky monkey, you know that, Colonel?"

"That's what my grandma would always say, sir."

Jack's eyes twinkled with mirth, and then with a dismissive nod, he declared, "Best not keep the Martinet of the Infirmary waiting any longer for her caffeine and carb fix."

"Yes, sir," he agreed.

He took a few steps to head towards the elevator, but stopped when he realized that the General was still standing outside of Jackson's room.

And he could have sworn he heard the man happily mutter under his breath, "Daniel, you dog."

But as he made it to the end of the hall, he definitely heard the man call out, "Hey, Carter! Do you got change for a twenty?"

_And so begins the (second) next fifty or sixty years…_

* * *

**A/N: **and that's all folks, at least for this tale. I hope you enjoyed.

Please, let me know what you think and if you are interested in more. I have a few ideas for some one-shots at least.

Anywho, thanks for reading!


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